The Tankerman's Lament

In these days of great privation,
Humping crude oil o'er the ocean,
Minds sunk low in black depression,
Fifteen men in silence ponder,
On that homeland left back yonder,
Wives and sweethearts there are sighing,
Children, fatherless, are crying,
Landlord in the local thinking,
Why are there no glasses chinking?
Bookies, desperately, are pacing,
Jolly Jack, Why aren't you racing?
Prolific weeds in seedbeds growing,
No one there to do the mowing,
Paint on door and windows peeling,
Large dark patches on the ceiling,
The hound grows fat from lack of walking,
Neighbours twixt the fences talking,
Of faithful hubby on his tanker,
Who slaves and sweats to keep his banker,
Sweet, with coffers overflowing,
Cash to pay for bargains going,
Half-price in the High Street store,
Thus keeping Jolly Jack so poor,
That back to sea he comes for more!
But Cheer Up! There's a side much brighter,
Cheap gin and whisky makes me tighter,
Than any beverage from local,
Hostelry where rustic yokel,
In smock and gaiter slurps his scrumpy.
Here, my bunk it might be lumpy,
Perhaps vibration makes me jumpy,
But we have crew from messdecks lower,
Who, though their speed be somewhat slower,
Than the fabled Aesop tortoise,
Draw the tennon from the mortise,
To bring us tea when day is dawning,
Bring us coffee at mid morning,
And our chef, with loving hand,
Mixes marge (a nameless brand!),
With flour (or maybe it is sand!),
To make the cake for tea on Sunday,
Or the bread we have on Monday.
Despite this moaning from us wretches,
Alas! My waistband it still stretches!
So spuds I must repudiate,
Otherwise 'twill be too late,
And the only way to get me thin,
Will be, Alas, to give up gin!
But if I were to take this measure,
From my life I'd lose all pleasure!
Risque mags we have, I'm told,
Depicting youthful models bold,
Comely maidens, bronzed and smiling,
Flaxen hair with looks beguiling.
Nymphets, coquettes, fickle, teasing,
Stimulating thoughts quite pleasing.
These things might be fine for some,
For others, whisky, fags or rum.
But for me, each time will win,
Another tot of Gordon's Gin!!


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